#shreds

It’s been two years since the Shreds. debut album ‘STEP BACK’ blew us al away, and the 80s throwbacks are back now with fifteen blistering new songs. FLOORSHOW was forged in the sweaty environment of small independent DIY venues, and the album, recorded at Stationhouse Recording Studio, Leeds captures the relentless chaotic energy of their live shows! Released via Engineer Records later this…

Do you like to knock back a pint of something vaguely yellow and fizzy as if you’re some kind of historical re-enactor cosplaying “Saturday night in Sunny Vale, 2003”

No drinking means ingesting streams. Data-streams, emotional streams, memory-streams. Everyone’s got a glass—or rather, a funnel-shaped haptic receiver—into which you pour whatever flavour of “drink” your evening requires.

Last week I “drank” the 12th-century wind patterns of the North Sea. Honestly? Bracing. 

I like swallowing multitudes. Left me with hair full of imaginary salt and a faint far distance stare for about an hour. 

My neighbour, meanwhile, has been on a month-long bender of “drinking 24.7 hertz”— the distilled essence of their purring. She’s glowing, cancer free, says it’s better than coffee.

And yes, it's frightening if you think about it too hard. Because if you can drink kittens you can also drink… grief. Or war. Or that one fight you had with your mother in 3218 that you never quite got over. And people do. Of course they do. There’s a subculture that mainlines divorce settlements on weekends for the “depth of flavour.” Grim.

But Couples drink each other’s daydreams on dates. And grad students sip “dinosaur juice,” which is the distilled confusion of paleontologists over the centuries. 

Entire pubs now specialise in “communal drafts,” where a dozen strangers all drink the same memory at once and then spend the evening laughing about it like they were actually there.

Early adopters exploded their livers, obviously. Turns out raw history is hard on the plumbing. But now it’s wrapped in nanogel. 

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence; Characters: Morokei;  Words:17,470 Tags: Pre-Canon, Violence, Religion, Dragon Cult (Elder Scrolls)

When Morokei first visits Bromjunaar, he immediately realizes that only here is he ready to find his home and grave. For this, he must adapt to the city: become famous, powerful, glorious... The dragon tells him nothing is impossible. Only the price is sometimes very, very high.

For a second, the dilated pupils behind the mask's sockets reflect either surprise or gratitude. And then comes the radiance: molten and burning, flexible and unrestrained, brighter than the morning sun and crueler than the zenith. Born of someone’s life, and madness, and a mind sharper than a razor's edge. Thousands, thousands of times hotter than any fire, the cold starlight spills out of it unrestrainedly.

And only ashes remain.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3